Homemade Soup and Extra Blankets
by katieupatree
Summary: And when he looks up she is watching him through sleep laden eyes, tear stained and startlingly green under the fluorescent lights. She pulls herself as close to his body as she can manage, nuzzling Eskimo kisses against the crook of his neck and speaking with mumbled whispers. "Love you."
1. One

Hello everybody.

This is a story written for the extra lovely Beth (take a peek at **dont-give-up-ily **on tumblr).  
She has very kindly donated the idea to me, and I am going to do my best to write a story that you will all enjoy.

**Disclaimer: Everything and everyone belongs to their rightful owners, I am simply borrowing them for a little while.**

* * *

**Homemade**** Soup and Extra Blankets  
**

**ONE**

She had arrived at work less than an hour ago, but Beckett was already desperate to go home; to flee as quickly as she could from the blaring lights and relentless clatter of the 12th and sink deep into the blissful calm of her apartment.

She had hardly slept the night before, had tossed and turned and fought with blankets that seemed to tie themselves in knots, had been too hot, too cold, too hot all over again, utterly exhausted and unable escape the pounding of her head and churning of her stomach.  
In truth, what she had wanted most of all was the comforting warmth of Castle to soothe her to sleep, but he had left the precinct so absolutely electric with story ideas that she couldn't bear to drag him away from his writing. Besides, he would only have worried unnecessarily, begged her to stay home, to call in sick, and that simply wasn't an option at the moment. They were so close to cracking their latest case, to uncovering that niggling detail that taunted and teased from its hiding place on the murder board, to bringing a glimmer of justice to the world. Kate Beckett didn't ever give up on that, and she certainly didn't do so for something as silly as the flu.

* * *

Gates had always seen a little of herself in Beckett, but watching the young detective as she forced herself to look over yet another manila folder with hands that trembled and eyes barely able to hold themselves open she felt as if she were looking into a mirror, a portal to a life that had once been her own. She knew all too well the nauseous ache of dragging yourself out of bed before dawn despite every cell in your body screaming out in protest, the fatigue that sunk deep into your bones and caused the world to haze and blur around the edges, the desperate longing for something, someone to ease the sheer awfulness of the day.  
And she knew, too, that there was only one man who would be able to convince Beckett to take the day off; only one man who was allowed such intimate access to her life, to her vulnerabilities. Of course they would both deny it, claim partnership, swear friendship, but that was a conversation for another day. Right now all that Gates needed was for Castle to take Beckett home, to look after the woman he so obviously loved.

Thankfully it didn't take long for him to arrive, a coffee in each hand a smile reserved only for Beckett. Seeing him walk by her office, Gates decided that it was best to not wait any longer; the sooner she spoke to him, the sooner he could take the detective who was currently asleep at her desk home.

"Mr. Castle, may I speak with you a moment?"

She didn't miss the flash of apprehension that ran through his eyes at her words, the ever whirling mind of Richard Castle trying to decipher what he could possibly have done to aggravate her this time, "What can I do for you?"

"It's about Detective Beckett," she said, leading him into her office and walking back to the window that looks out over the bullpen. "I think it would best if you take her home and make sure she stays tucked up in bed."

"Sir?" He was completely flustered, missing entirely the reasoning behind Gates' suggestion and fearing for the secrecy of their relationship. And if she were being totally honest, Gates may have drawn more than a little amusement from his flushed cheeks and loss of words.

Eventually taking pity on the tongue tied writer, she beckoned him over to window and let him see for himself what she had actually meant, "Take her home, Castle, and don't let her back until she is well enough to return. We both know that Beckett won't take lightly to missing work, but I am prepared to order sick leave if that is what it takes."

Castle felt his heart surge at the sight of Beckett, _his Beckett, _slumped across her desk and ghostly pale, "Of course." The possible discovery of their relationship long forgotten, his mind taken over by worry and concern for the woman he loved.

"And Mr. Castle," adds Gates, just as he is at the door, "take care of her."

Smiling in understanding, Castle leaves the office with the determination to do just that. "I will, Sir. Thank you."

* * *

At first her mind is too groggy to comprehend the world around her, eyes stung with sleep and head weighted by the throbbing pain that seems to intensify with every second that passes. Someone is calling her name, soft and familiar like apple pie and midsummer nights, but she can't quite place it; everything seems too far away, drifted out to space or buried deep under the ocean. Surely it must all be a part of her dream, her subconscious pulling her safely away from the real world.

Then suddenly the voice is clearer, louder, so close that it has to be real, "Beckett" it whispers, "Kate" it soothes. "Kate, you have to wake up." Why does she have to wake up? It hurts to be awake, it really hurts; why can't she just stay asleep for a little while longer? "Come on, Katie." Oh, it's Castle. Only, he's not just Castle anymore, he's better than Castle; he's hers, he's Rick, and my goodness does she love to hear him speak the sultry syllables of a name so few are allowed to call her.

Turning towards his love filled words, she peeks open her eyes, blinking fast against the onrush of light and still not quite able to find her place in reality. "Rick?" His name is all that she can manage, still drifting through the neverwhere land that lies between fairy stories and harsh realities.

He gently pushes back the messy curls that have fallen haphazardly across her cheeks, daring to follow lovingly with his lips as he leans a little closer, the sickly heat of her fever radiating beneath his skin. "Gates is giving you the rest of the day off. You aren't well, darling, you need to go home."

"Hmmm, I'm fine, Rick. Just one more minute."

God, she's adorable. All sloppy smiles and sleepy words, forgetting the world entirely and stretching out in search of his touch, his kiss; but that is something to be appreciated at a different time.  
Wrapping her hands around his neck he pulls Beckett slowly up onto her feet, one arm held tight around her body and the other gathering up her coat and bag. "We're going to do this together, one foot in front of the other, easy peasy lemon squeezy! You just tell me if you need to stop, ok?"

"Mmm'kay." She almost giggles, lost once more to a land of make believe.

He feels her body press a little closer to his own with each step that they take, limbs heavy and trusting, never questioning that she is safe in strength of his arms.  
And in that moment he wants more than anything to tuck her neatly into his arms and carry her the whole way home, but she is already going to be annoyed for allowing herself to so languidly cling to his embrace in front of so many people, let alone the wrath that he would face for sweeping her off her feet and carrying her out of the precinct like a knight in shining armour. No, that certainly wouldn't be a good idea.

* * *

The elevator is already at their floor when they eventually arrive, its doors sliding effortlessly open the minute he presses the button. Stepping them both onto its familiar floor and leaning against the wall, Castle nods a goodbye to Gates and waits for the doors to close again.

He tightens his hold against the jolts of the elevator ride and leans down to press a kiss to Beckett's burning forehead. "We're nearly there, Kate. Just a couple more minutes and you can sleep the whole way home."

And when he looks up she is watching him through sleep laden eyes, tear stained and startlingly green under the fluorescent lights. She pulls herself as close to his body as she can manage, nuzzling Eskimo kisses against the crook of his neck and speaking with mumbled whispers. "Love you."

"I love you, too." He replies, promising to do all that he can to look after her. Not just on that day, not just to make her feel better with homemade soup and extra blankets, but for every day that is yet to come. To be hers, always.

* * *

To be continued..

I hope that you liked it?  
Please let me know what you thought. Good, or bad - all feedback is greatly appreciated.

Thank you for reading,  
Katie

Twitter: katieupatree  
Tumblr: ourglassmenagerie


	2. Two

I promise not to ramble on for too long!  
I just wanted to say a big old, sloppy thank you for the support that you have shown this story, it really does mean the world.

* * *

**TWO**

Looking over at Kate as she murmured words too heavy with sleep to understand and twisted herself towards the cooling rush of the aircon, Castle knew that he had been right in his decision to drive them straight back to his loft. And maybe she would protest his choice when she started to feel better, but for now he was simply grateful to know that she would soon be safely tucked up in the warmth of his bed, medicine cabinet fully stocked and nothing to with himself but take care of her.

He opens the passenger side door as slowly as possible, suddenly very thankful for the off-road parking that will make the next step in his plan far easier than it might have been otherwise.  
Leaning across to unclick her seatbelt, Castle places her hands once more around his neck, arms wrapping tight around her waist as he pulls her gently from the car. This time, however, he has no qualms in carrying Beckett the rest of the way, her body weighted and somehow still sleeping as he sweeps her effortlessly into his arms. And even though he would do absolutely everything in his power to make her feel better; to ease the unrelenting ache of fever and sickness, to rid her mind of its utter exhaustion, he cannot help but smile as even through her dreams she cuddles close to his warmth and peppers kisses against his chest.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of Beckett's mind a tiny voice is telling her to fight against him, to protest Castle's gallant actions and prove that she is capable of looking after herself, but honestly, she isn't so sure of that strength today; fears she could very well disappear into the abyss without his arms to anchor her to the real world. And perhaps a year ago that would have felt like a weakness too monumental to ever show, an unbearable fault, a flaw to be hidden behind impenetrable walls, but now she knows so much better. Because yes, to be vulnerable is indeed to be exposed; to be open to the wounds of life and the very things that make us quake and shiver with fear, but it is also to be loved, to be open to the bounty and the beauty of life.  
So she pushes away that foolish little voice and listens to her heart instead; her heart that beats for the love of Richard Castle, and she allows herself to sleep away the mind numbing pain and revel in the safety of his arms as he carries her up to the loft that is feeling a little more like home with each day that passes.

* * *

Castle makes it up to his door without any problems, lowering Beckett back down onto slightly shaky feet so that he can find the keys and let them in. She leans herself against the wall so that he can have both hands free, blinking up at him with wide eyes and a smile so adorably sleepy that for a moment he is so utterly overtaken with love that he forgets why they are there in the first place. A tiny, almost nonexistent point in time when everything had felt so wonderful, so completely filled with the hopes and dreams of his soul that the world had stopped altogether.  
But it only lasts a second; silly and fleeting and over before Kate even notices that he has stalled.

He takes her hand in his own, is reminded of her fever by its clammy warmth and makes certain to hold on tight as he guides them through the doorway and clicks the lock down behind them.  
They're home, finally away from the hustle of the precinct, the jolts and bumps of the road, the quizzical gaze of Mrs. Jenkins who lives two floors below; home where he can care for her, look after her, love her.

* * *

He leads Beckett through to his bedroom, pulling closed the curtains as she winces at the midmorning sun that dances bold and bright throughout the entire room. She squeezes his hand in a silent thank you, woozy with being stood for so long and sinking gratefully into the pillows that rest on her side of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, smoothing away the messy curls of her hair so that he can check her temperature.

"Better now." she smiles, eyes shimmering love beneath their exhaustion.

"Liar." he teases.

She giggles, thankful for his playfulness. "Perhaps a little."

He presses his lips to her own, delicate kisses designed to soothe, to settle. Feels her body relax deeper into the cool sheets and knows that it won't be long until she is stolen back by the tempting lull of sleep.  
Pulling away with one last kiss to her still smiling lips, he walks towards the wardrobe at the far end of the room, "Your pyjamas or mine?"

"Yours please."

"Socks?"

She looks at him as if he's just asked her what colour the sky is, scrunching up her nose in a way that reminds him almost of Alexis as a little girl; beautiful and innocent and a little grumpy around the edges. No, she doesn't want socks, and how dare he even think to ask such a ridiculous question! Of course he knew this as he asked; couldn't resist a glimpse of that adorable little pout he loves so much.

Eventually finding the purple button down shirt that Kate had long ago claimed as her own, Castle walks back over to find her already on the very edge of sleep. Smiling a little despite himself, he whispers her name soft and close, "Kate?"

"Hmmm?"

"Pyjamas on, and then you can sleep the entire day away."

"You do it." she sighs, eyes still closed and cute as a button, outstretching her arms so that he can pull her t-shirt off a little easier.

He's helped her to undress before, but this time it's different; not fuelled by passion and lust, not a hurried frenzy amidst open mouthed kisses and roaming hands, but rather an act of comfort, of caring; his fingers soft and almost shy as they peel away her work clothes. He follows the path of newly revealed skin with tiny kisses, _across her arms, along her shoulders, around her belly button_, his lips deliciously cool against the sweat licked heat of her skin.

Once he has her cosily buttoned in his shirt, he pulls back the covers and helps her to settle down properly, tucks her in against the bitter cold that he knows will follow her fever and kisses her one last time. "Goodnight, darling, sleep tight."

"Rick?" she calls, just as he reaches the door; voice small and muffled beneath the blankets.

"Yes?" he answers.

Her reply is so perfect that to Castle it feels almost imagined; small and shy and utterly wonderful, filling his heart with more love than he ever thought possible. "Could you stay with me for a little while. Please?"

"There isn't anywhere in the world that I would rather be."

With smiles that mirror each other's exactly, he adds his clothes to the discarded pile on the floor and climbs into bed with her; arms immediately finding their familiar place around her waist as she buries herself against the concave of his body.  
And there he stays, listening to the dreams that she mumbles and purrs, waiting until he is needed for more.

* * *

To be continued..

Thank you ever so much for reading.  
& if you have a moment to do so, please let me know what you thought of this update?

Until next time,  
Katie


	3. Three

**THREE  
**

Kate awakes with a start, is pulled all too abruptly from the delicious delirium of her dreams and thrust viciously back to the real world. Her head is pounding, the pain so great that it plays out like a marching band running fast through her mind; each beat of her heart sending it deeper, further, spreading it through her bones, her muscles, every single cell reverberating with the ache of flu and fever. She is dizzy even as she lays cuddled close to Castle, light-headed and almost tipsy; aware only of the nausea that has been slowly building throughout the day and now threatens to overwhelm her entirely .

* * *

It takes Castle a few seconds to comprehend her sudden burst of movement, groggy with the afternoon sleep he hadn't meant to fall into. But then he understands, sees her panic, is out of bed and following quick behind as she runs on shaky legs to the bathroom.

He catches up with her just in time, scoops her hair up with one hand and rubs circles across her back with the other; holds her close as the sickness takes over, as it shudders through her body and forces itself free.  
She feels too small, too fragile to be Kate as she heaves painfully over the toilet bowl. Seeing her like this, feeling her desperation as she crouches helplessly on the floor he wants more than ever to be able to take it all away, to click his fingers and swap places, to be the one ravaged by the illness that leaves her shaking in his arms. But he can't; all he can do is be there for her, to hold her, to whisper sentiments of love against her clammy skin and hope that the worst will soon be over.

* * *

She feels hollow, broken, used up as she falls back against Castle's chest. The world is a woozy blur that makes her want to scream and cry and disappear all at once; her body so completely exhausted that she isn't even sure of her own existence. The only thing keeping her from breaking down altogether is Castle, his love a tangible being; warm and safe and strong as she curls up in his arms and preys that her body has finished retching itself.

His heart breaks for her as Kate folds herself against him; his beautiful force to be reckoned with barely more than skin and bone as she lays tiny and trembling in his arms. He's almost scared to move her, scared he'll do something to make it worse.  
But eighteen years of parenthood have taught Castle a lot, and deep down he knows that Kate needs to be far away from the cold tiles and sickly air of the bathroom.

Helping onto the edge of the bathtub, he grabs his dressing gown from its place on the door and wraps it tight around her shoulders, its warmth quickly flooding her shivered bones and sparking a tiny glimmer of life back into her eyes that still don't quite belong to this world.  
Then he fills a glass with water so that she can wash away the wretched aftertaste of bile, holding her steady as she eagerly takes it from him. "Don't drink too quickly, you'll make yourself sick again."

Following his warning, Kate cautiously sips at the water, pushing it back into his waiting hands as if to stop herself from gulping it down in one breath. "Thank you, Rick." Her voice is cracked around the edges, hoarse and less than a whisper.

"You're welcome." He smiles, placing the glass down beside them and holding both his hands out for her to take.

But rather than pulling herself up, she squeezes tight to his fingers; filling him with all that she is too exhausted to explain, with a love too extraordinary to ever be put into words. "No. Thank you, for everything."

He kisses her tenderly on the forehead, a gesture to show that he understands, that he feels the same. But it's more than that, more than simple understanding; it's a promise that he would replay this day for the rest of their lives if that was what Kate needed, and still she wouldn't ever have to thank him. Because he loves her, and love doesn't ask for response, for acknowledgement, for gratitude; it just is.

"Time to get you back to bed." He says, tucking her under his arm as they walk slowly through the false, curtained darkness of his room. "You'll be ok, my love, everything will be better soon ."

* * *

This time Castle makes sure to stay awake; vows to keep watch as she sleeps deep through the rest of the day, to hold her close and keep her fears at bay.  
He props himself up against the headboard and runs calming patterns across her back, soothing and gentle. Watches the steady rise and fall of her chest, her ribs, admires the taught muscles that shape her body, strong and perfectly defined, a reassurance that Kate Beckett can overcome anything that this world throws her way; that she will soon be back, twisting his ear and telling him off for watching her sleep.

* * *

To be continued..

I am completely blown away by the support that you have all shown my little story, and I honestly cannot believe that so many people are enjoying it enough to add to their follows or favourites. Thank you all so much, I really do appreciate it.

I hope that this update didn't disappoint ..I know that it is a little shorter than the first two, but I didn't want to bundle too much into one chapter.  
If you have a chance to do so, please let me know what you thought?

Thank you, again  
Katie x


	4. Four

**FOUR  
**

When Kate is awoken later that afternoon it isn't through panic stricken nausea, not a desperate and hurried race to the bathroom, but rather it is the steady tap of his fingers expertly dancing over well-worn computer keys that draws her back to the real world. The soft click of the space bar that has wriggled itself a little loose over the years and the lightening fast whirl of his hands as they race to keep up with his thoughts drift slowly through to her subconscious, tangling around the edges of sleep and battling against the heavy fog that still litters her mind.  
The wonderfully familiar sounds of Castle working away beside her are a beacon of hope to her pain addled body, funny little imaginings of his furrowed brow and frown of concentration playing out like the movies against her eye lids that are still too heavy to hold themselves open. Her almost-dreams of the man she loves a beautiful distraction from how awful she feels; grateful that the nausea seems to have buried itself far away, but still taunted by fever, by a head that pounds without relief and a body that aches in ways she hadn't even thought possible.

* * *

Castle is almost at the end of his next chapter when he feels Kate waking up beside him, her arms stretching out of the covers in a way that seems almost feline and eyes blinking against the lamp light that now bathes his room.  
He quickly types himself a list of storyline reminders and saves the new pages that he has written that afternoon, clicking down the lid of his laptop and tucking it away for another time.

"Good morning." she murmurs, reaching out in search of his warmth, his touch.

"Close enough." he replies, smiling softly to himself at how utterly adorable she is with sleep in her eyes and his shirt huckled around her waist. The startling heat of her skin tells him that she is still tormented by the flu, but he is relieved to find a little more of the his Kate Beckett back; to know that she is filled once more with fight, with spark, with the ethereal magic that he is yet to find the words to explain.

"Not morning?" she asks, cheeks blushed cherry pink with bashfulness and fever.

He pulls her flush against his chest, their legs entwined together as he kisses her quickly before replying. "Nope, not morning."

"Mmm'kay, that's good." Her words are a muffled sigh that sink deep into his musky skin.

"Good?"

"Too comfy for it to be morning." she states, as if it were the most obvious thing in the entire world.

And as he holds her close, burying them both a little deeper under the covers and tangling his fingers through her hair, Castle has to agree with Kate's sleepy logic; it definitely does feel too comfy to be morning.

* * *

After a dreamy hour of blissful cuddles and almost chaste kisses, they are both beginning to feel the itch of restless feet; tangled limbs fidgeting in protest at having spent so long in one place, desperate to stretch out, to move and creak.

Clambering slowly over to her side of the bed, Kate snuggles herself back into his ridiculously fluffy dressing gown and pads into the bathroom to wash away the sickly remnants of the day. Castle is more than a little reluctant to let her go alone, but she assures him that she feels well enough to survive the shower and promises to call out if she needs him.  
And so off he goes, heading into his office and rummaging through cupboards like a little kid at Christmas time, leaving Kate with half an hour to herself.

The misty spray of the shower is almost too hot to stand under, but that is exactly what she needs; clean and refreshing as the continual drum of the water soothes her weary body, warming her bones and clearing her mind. She feels awake, alive, human for the first time in what seems like days but has in reality only been hours, the hope of feeling better so close that she can almost reach out and take it.  
But deep down Kate knows that she is still a long way from being back to her real self; and yet somehow she doesn't mind that thought as much as she should do, just as long as Castle is there to hold her hand and kiss her softly as she sleeps.

* * *

To be continued..

I'm sorry, I know that it is rather a short chapter once again, but I have fluff-filled plans for the next update that really need a chapter of their own :)

I hope that you are still enjoying my little story?  
If you have a chance to do so, please let me know what you thought.

Thank you for reading,  
Katie x

P.s. I am shamelessly plugging a little one-shot that I wrote earlier today ..it is called **One Day**, and I would love for you to take a peek.


	5. Five

**FIVE  
**

Castle is just about to put another slice of bread into the toaster when Kate comes through from his bedroom, floor boards whispering under the delicate pad of her feet and cheeks flushed pink from the shower.  
She seems almost shy as she walks towards him, fiddling with the sleeves of his old sweatshirt. "I hope you don't mind?" she asks, gesturing down at the navy blue material which hangs just above her knees, loosely skimming against her slender curves.

"Not at all." he replies, leading her over to the sofa that has been piled high with pillows and patchwork blankets, making sure she is snuggled in against the cold. "Feeling any better?"

Her nose scrunches up at his question, impossibly cute as she answers him with a fed up sigh, "A little."

"My poor little Katie." he coos, lovingly leaning over the back of the sofa to capture her lips with his own and kiss away their frustrated pout. "I made us magic soup for dinner, if you're feeling up to it?"

"Magic soup?"

He smiles brightly back at her, wistful with memories of a teary-eyed Alexis home sick from school and needing her Daddy to make it all better. "It's a Castle family tradition, an extra-special cure for absolutely everything!"

"Well, I certainly can't say no to that." replies Kate, stealing one last kiss before he walks back through to the kitchen to carry on with the dinner that he had left half abandoned.

* * *

She doesn't notice Castle as he stands in the doorway watching her, soup bowls in hand and a dopey smile written across his handsome features. No, in that moment her mind is elsewhere, drifted far away to day dreams of the man she loves, to made up stories that overwhelm her with nostalgia for a time and a place that she wasn't a part of. She is filled with a hopeless longing to go back to the years before they met, to know the Richard Castle who made magic soup for the very first time, who stayed home from book launches and after show parties to take care of his little girl, who crawled about under the bed every night to check for monsters.  
She forgets, sometimes, that he has lived this wonderful life that she will never get to experience, a life belonging to a man who isn't quite _her _Castle. A realisation that never fails to jumble her emotions entirely, to somehow make her desperately sad and ridiculously happy all at once; because yes, a part of her will always regret that they missed out on so much of each other's lives, but perhaps that is just how it was supposed to be.

And sitting there that afternoon, cuddled tight in his blankets and warmed by his love, she is incredibly thankful for everything that Castle's life has taught him; for the man who isn't afraid to kiss her even as she shakes and shivers with fever, and for the little girl who asked for magic soup all those years ago.

* * *

"Kate?" he breathes, almost afraid to break her out of the reverie that she seems to be so blissfully dissolved into.

"Oh." she smiles, beautiful and pure, "I was miles away."

"Anywhere nice?" he asks, wanting more than anything to be allowed into the secret world that hides just below the surface of her forest green eyes.

She waits until they are settled comfortably into the corner of the sofa before replying, eagerly taking the bowl of steaming soup that he holds out for her and making room for him under the blankets. "I was thinking about how scared you must have been when Alexis was little and it was just the two of you, how brave you were to raise her by yourself. And I wanted to make sure that you know how special you are, how proud you should be to see your little girl grown into such a wonderful young woman."

He doesn't know what to say; can't find words enough to express how he is feeling, feels choked with love, with awe.

"Sorry," she says, not quite able to meet his eyes, "I know that sounded silly."

"Not silly at all" he reassures, pressing his palms softly to her cheeks and whispering words of love between sloppy, deliberate kisses.

* * *

Later that night, as they lie sleepy together on the sofa and flick aimlessly through television channels, Castle suddenly remembers the Christmas present that he has hidden away for Kate at the back of his wardrobe; a present so perfectly fitting for this day that he has to give it to her now.  
"Wait here," he says, pushing himself up off the sofa and practically skipping into his room "I've just got to get something."

She studies him quizzically as he sits himself back down beside her, giddy with nervous excitement and holding out a box covered with ruby wrapping paper and a giant, gold bow.

"Castle, it's only the 28th October?"

"Well, yes, I know. But you still have to open it."

Giving up on ever understanding his whirling, twirling, nine year old mind, Kate takes the beautifully wrapped present and carefully pulls at the sticky tape keeping the paper in place.

"Oh, Rick." she whispers, holding on tight to his hands. And it is all that she can do to stop her tears from escaping, because in her lap sits the box-set of Temptation Lane, a gateway to some of the most beautiful memories that she has of her Mum.

"I thought that we could watch them tonight, if you want to?"

"I'd like that," she smiles, watery-eyed and completely under the spell of his love, "Thank you."

* * *

To be continued..

I'm not entirely sure about this chapter - I always find dialogue impossibly difficult to write, so I apologise if it is a little awkward to read in places.  
If you have a moment to do so, please let me know what you thought?

I am back to school on Monday, so updates will have to be saved for the weekends from now on. Sorry!  
I hope the wait won't put you off my little story.

Thank you for reading,  
Katie


	6. Six

Hello everyone!

I am so very sorry for how long this update has taken me. I know that I promised to update every weekend, but real life has just been a little too hectic recently. I know, silly excuses, but I will try to do better next time.

Thank you to everyone who is still reading this, you are all so lovely to my little story.  
It really does mean so much to me!

* * *

**SIX**

When the sweat-licked shivers of Kate's body pull him out of sleep in the early hours of the morning, Castle is more than thankful that he didn't listen to her sleepy protests as he had taken them both back to bed after watching their sixth episode of Temptation Lane.

Kate had been sleep incarnate as she lay cuddled tight to his chest, eyes heavy as they fought to stay awake for one last episode, eventually the weight of flu and the lure of dreams winning out against her adorably fierce determination to not fall asleep. And in that moment, every fibre of Castle's being had wanted to stay exactly where they were; limbs tangled together and breath dancing across each other's skin as she slept against the warmth of his body, beautiful and pure in the flickering light of the television screen. But deep down he had known that Kate would need the comfort of a real bed to help her sleep through the end of her fever, and he couldn't refuse her that.

Pulling her gently onto wobbling feet and wrapping the old patchwork blanket back around her slender shoulders, Castle had felt almost as if he were looking back in time; his memories of a young Alexis mingling with silly imaginings of Kate as a little girl, a perfect miniature of _his _Kate Beckett, strong and defiant and falling asleep even as she begged her Mum and Dad to stay up for another ten minutes.  
Shaking himself free of his beautiful day dreams, he had kissed away her half-asleep mumbles of annoyance and navigated her safely through the midnight darkness of his apartment, quickly going back to turn off the television and fetch her a glass of water before climbing under the covers and tucking an already sleeping Kate back into his arms.

Only now, as Castle holds her trembling body close to his own and tries to protect her from the startling cold of a breaking fever, he is reminded of the first time that Alexis had ever gotten sick; of staying up all night to watch over his tiny baby who had fussed and kicked and cried herself into exhaustion, of feeling utterly clueless as to what to do and terrified of making it worse. A panicked phone call to his Mother had offered a little comfort, her dramatic flair transformed to calming reassurance, a loving promise to her son that everything was going to be alright, that all he needed to do was cuddle his little girl close and keep her warm as the fever worked its way out of her system, that she would wake up in the morning and be his happy little pumpkin pie again.  
And that is what he did, on more occasions than he can even count, and that is what he will do for Kate; bundle her up in the warmth of his body and soothe away the shivers that threaten to wake her. And perhaps he is still a little afraid of how fragile she feels against the concave of his chest, but he is also incredibly grateful to know that the worst is over and that she will feel better in the morning.

* * *

When Beckett wakes up she is a little lost as to where exactly she is, hazy with the remnants of sleep and trapped by blankets that have twisted themselves together during the night.  
She feels clammy skinned, almost dirty with sweat and sleep and the itch of fabric as Castle's old sweatshirt clings uncomfortably to her body, but slowly her memories of the past couple of days seep back into focus, and somehow all of her discomfort dissolves into the relief of waking up to find that her fever is gone; that she can think and move and breathe without the constant ache of flu.  
So she settles back into the sticky heat of the bed sheets for a moment longer, overwhelmed by the quiet wonder of simply feeling better.

But it doesn't take long for Kate to become restless, to glance over at the bright green digits of Castle's alarm clock every few seconds and mentally weigh out the pros and cons of going into the precinct.  
She knows that Castle will tell her not to go in; that he will beg her with beautiful words and loving touches, and even though she can't quite admit it aloud, Kate is almost hoping that he will be able to convince her to stay at home. But she does feel better, feels like herself again, and never has Detective Kate Beckett been one for lying in bed when she is perfectly capable of going to work. No, that will never do!  
She is fine, she is better, and that means a shower, a cup of coffee, and an early morning catch-up on their current case.

* * *

Even as he pretends to stay sleeping, Castle can hear the whirling of Kate's thoughts, can see the steady determination write itself across her beautiful features as she convinces herself that a day at work is a good idea. And he loves her a little more for it; _his_ _extraordinary Kate Beckett_.

Ten more minutes and he feels the dip of the mattress as she tries to sneak out of bed without waking him, fights against every impulse that he has as she gives into temptation and presses a whispering kiss goodbye to his softly smiling lips, allows her to get just far enough away to believe that she has managed to escape without his protest before he quickly reaches out to catch a hold of her hand, pulling her carefully back onto the bed.

"Castle!" she whines, feeling suddenly foolish to have ever believed that it could've been so easy to slip away. "Stop playing, I'm already half an hour late."

"Playing? Come on, Kate, you cannot seriously be considering going to work." replies Castle, sitting up so that he can level her determination.

"Of course I'm serious. I have to go."

His voice is sterner this time; not angry or disappointed with her seemingly desperate need to go into work, but rather lilted with just enough force to steal her full attention. "Kate, a few hours ago you could hardly stand up by yourself, the only place that you have to be today is right here, with me."

"I feel fine, Rick. I'm..."

But he doesn't even let her finish what she was about to say; not that it would have mattered, nothing in the entire world would've been able to convince Castle to let her walk out of his front door that morning and into the harsh reality of murder boards and interrogation rooms. "I know that you feel better, darling, but I need to make sure that you really are. Just give me one more day. I'll run us a bubble bath, make chocolate pancakes, and then we'll watch as much Temptation Lane as we can possibly manage. Anything you want, just as long as you promise to not even think about work for the rest of the day."

"But..."

"Please, Kate. Let me take care of you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I would like to." he pleads, reaching out to caress the still too pale curve of her cheeks, not afraid to show the concern that dances amidst the crystal blue of his beautiful eyes.

"Okay." she concedes, melting into the warmth of his touch and sealing her promise with a lingering kiss that is filled with love and gratitude. Because, really, how could she possibly deny Castle something as simple as a day of rest and relaxation after all that he has done for her?

* * *

To be continued..

I had intended on finishing the story within this chapter, but instead came up with a plan for another couple of chapters. I hope you don't mind.

Please let me know what you thought?

Thank you for reading,  
Katie

P.s. Congratulations to Castle, Stana, and Nathan on their PCA nominations!


	7. Seven

**SEVEN **

Kate clings tight to the supportive hand that Castle holds out for her as she tentatively sinks her aching bones into the blissful warmth of his bathtub, filled to the very top with bubbles of velvet and vanilla salts that tickle across her tired skin, the last remnants of fever and flu dissipating entirely as her feet find their familiar resting place between the brass taps.

She pulls herself forwards, expecting Castle to join her amidst the bubbles, but his hands are hesitant in letting her go of her own, as if he is afraid to do so. But he doesn't need to be scared, not anymore; she's not the person who she used to be, he has made her so much more.  
Squeezing tight to Castle's strong, ink stained hands, she offers him a silent promise of certainty; he doesn't have to worry, she isn't going anywhere. Any lingering concerns that she had held over staying at home with Castle had been vanquished by his love; every thought, every movement, every breath that he took designed only to care for her, to keep her safe, and she feels utterly foolish to have even thought of going to work today. This is where she needs to be, _where she wants to be, _wrapped in the warmth of her beautiful lover and his kindness that knows no bounds.

"Care to join me?" she asks, voice light and playful, easing the strain of uncertainty that had twisted itself around his heart.

His smile, bright and bold and loving, is all the reply that Kate needs; his doubts are gone, soothed by the simple truth – _she is his, always_.

And with carefree laughter that reverberates throughout the steamed room, Castle discards his boxers and sends water spilling over in every direction, his arms eagerly pulling her to his chest as they settle back against the tub, both forgetting the world outside entirely.

* * *

Turning towards her as he adds the finishing touches to their breakfast, it seems almost impossible to Castle that only the night before Kate had been a fragile whisper of her true self, wracked with sickness and weighted with exhaustion as she had curled into his arms and begged for it all to stop, so small, so vulnerable.  
Because now she sits atop the kitchen counter as if it were any other morning that they have spent together, hair a tantalising mess of just-washed curls and legs bare beneath another borrowed shirt, swinging absentmindedly as she tunes his radio to her favourite station. She is beautiful, perfect, and he intends to savour every moment of their day together; it is his chance to spoil her, to look after her in the silly little domesticated ways that he has always longed to, and that isn't something that he is willing to let slip through his fingers.

Plates in hand, he waits for Kate to shimmy down from her place on the worktop, leading them over to the kitchen island, "Breakfast, Milady."

"Why, thank you, kind sir." she replies, eyes dancing bright and voice lilted with mischief.

They sink into easy conversation as Kate pours the coffee and Castle piles both of their plates high with his time honoured feast of 'feeling better' goodies; a special breakfast treat that came about in much the same way as his magic soup.

Passing Kate her expertly assembled plate, he cannot help the smirk that tugs at his lips as he waits for her response.

"Castle?"

"Mmm 'hum?" he mumbles, playing oblivious to the question that she is sure to ask.

"Why do all of my pancakes have a smiley face?"

Oh, there it is! Along with her adorable little frown of confusion that he has loved from their very first meeting. "Because, my dear Detective, these aren't just any pancakes. These are emergency, only to be eaten in times of great need, cheer you up pancakes!"

She's smiling up at him now, waiting for another beautiful glimpse into his life before the 12th, wanting to know all that he is ready to share. "Another Castle family invention?"

"Alexis' first day of school," his voice is wistful as he relays the story that has so often played through his mind, transported back to a cold, September morning of tears and waving his little pumpkin goodbye for the first time, "we had both needed a little happiness to see us through the day. Somehow we ended up with smiley face pancakes and strawberry milkshakes for breakfast, much to my Mother's discouragement, but it was a tradition that stuck with us; whenever we had an awful day, or had our hearts broken, or had been feeling poorly, our smiley face pancakes were there to offer us both a little joy. "

The space between them is almost nonexistent as Castle finishes his story, fingers softly interlocked and skin tingled by the heated whisper of Kate's lips as they dance teasingly close to his own; but her eyes don't read flirtation and silliness, they burn with love, with gratitude, with how truly honoured she feels to be allowed such intimate access to his heart, to be a part of his whole life. "We're both very lucky to have such a wonderful man to look after us."

"Oh no, I am most definitely the lucky one." he breathes, closing the distance between them completely, lips deliciously warm with coffee as they draw each other further into the magic of their kiss.

* * *

Once they are finished with their languid hours of breakfast delights, stealing strawberries off of each others' plates between chaste kisses and sips of sweet coffee, Castle takes Kate's hand in his own once again and leads her back through to his makeshift cinema. The sofa is seemingly moulded to the now familiar shape of their bodies as they sink into its cushions, limbs tangled together beneath patchwork blankets as they settle in for his promised Temptation Lane marathon.

For the past few hours she has been completely under the spell of her favourite memories, transported back to the comforting embrace of her Mum and the years old episodes that she can quote almost word-for-word, but as the credits to the final episode of season one roll across the screen Kate can feel the intention with which Castle is watching her; ocean eyes dark in the golden light and misted with a desire that she knows well.  
Allowing the television to play out to itself, she turns so that she is facing him properly, fingers reaching up without even realising to lovingly smooth the wayward hair that had fallen haphazardly over his forehead. Stalling her fingers as they map a journey of the soft skin that lines his strong, sculptured jaw, Castle speaks with a sigh, his voice a quiver of seduction that fills the early evening air, "I love you."

Responding to Castle's heartfelt words with lips that ached for his kiss, Kate can see their entire lives spreading out before them; beautiful days of love, of happiness, of not being afraid or embarrassed to hide away in the comforting embrace of Richard Castle. He is her future, her life, and in that moment she vows to never stop in her quest to show him just how grateful she is for all that he has done to take care of her; not just over the past two days, but during every single second that they have known each other.  
Starting with tonight, with four little syllables of love and trust and all that she is unable to find the words to say, "Let's go to bed."

**End.**

* * *

There we have it ..the end of my little story!  
I will leave you to fill in the details of "Let's go to bed" as I have never been able to write anything past kisses.

I hope that you enjoyed the last chapter? ..Please do let me know what you thought.

Just before I go, I would like to thank you all so much for reading this. I have honestly been blown away with your response to this story *in the most wonderful way possible.*  
And, of course, an extra-special thank you to Beth (look for **dont-give-up-ily **on tumblr) who sent me the idea for this fic. It has been a pleasure to write this for you, and I hope that you like the (finally) finished story.

Until next time,  
Katie

Twitter: katieupatree


End file.
